


Sides of the Arcana

by magic_but_its_green



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: AU, Amnesia, Gen, I’ll stop now, Magic, Mystery, Plague, Tarot Cards, The Arcana AU, This fanfic is the main reason why I got an ao3 account so, also, beetles, fun fact I guess, past major character death, sorry for so many tags and characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-01-15 20:42:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21259346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magic_but_its_green/pseuds/magic_but_its_green
Summary: Thomas is a student of the magical arts. His teacher is a man who goes by Deceit, and he’s been there for Thomas since loosing any memories beyond three years ago. One night, Thomas is given the opportunity to investigate the city’s previous Count’s murder, but it leads to more than what he expected.Or, I mix sanders sides with an app called the arcana and make an au no one asked for. Some of the writing is exactly like the app’s plot, and some of it I’m changing up- just fyi.Sanders sides belongs to Thomas Sanders and anyone else who works on it, the arcana belongs to Nix Hydra. I own nothing but the idea of the au I guess-





	1. The Magician

Thomas is a student of the magical arts. He lives in a quaint shop within the grand city of Vesuvia. For the most part, he lives a cozy life, despite having amnesia. 

Thomas’ memories only start from three years ago, the rest being a fuzzy blur. Anytime he attempts to remember the past, a migraine overtakes him, making his efforts futile. He’s long since stopped trying to remember, having accepted that his past is a mystery for him. Sure, he could ask Deceit what happened, but his recounting would be as victorious as Thomas trying to reminisce on his own. So, naturally, he stopped trying.

“I’m not leaving again tonight.”

Looking up from their back room, Thomas saw the first face he can remember seeing : Deceit. A charismatic magician, with bounties of secrets and truths untold. He is Thomas’ teacher, or “master”, of the magical arts. He’s lived with Thomas for at least three years, and helped him go from endless confusion to a talented apprentice. Although he’s never shared his real name before (and Deceit isn’t exactly a trustworthy nickname), Thomas has nothing but faith and respect for him. Besides, as far as Thomas knew, Deceit only has his nickname due to his love of speaking in opposites.

Yet, these constant trips outside of Vesuvia were becoming quite lonesome. Deceit would leave for days, weeks, and come back for only a little while. Thankfully, Thomas could run the shop by himself, and could always visit the baker, Gavin, if he felt overly lonely. Although, as kind and goofy as Gavin was, Thomas couldn’t deny that he missed Deceit. The silence in the shop was agonizingly somber, compared to the calm quiet of the pair practicing magic, tidying up, cooking, anything but rearranging jars of ingredients on his own. He wished that they could both go on a trip, instead of Deceit leaving Thomas with the shop.

Alas, that was, currently, a naive wish.

“Is this a quick trip?” Said Thomas, hope barely lining his words. He’d like to believe that it’s just a stop at some nearby town, and it wouldn’t take more than a day.

However, Deceit shook his head, shooting Thomas an apologetic smile. “Yes. I shouldn’t be back in less than a week, at most.” 

A moment was all it took for Thomas to realize what was being said (he’s had plenty of time to learn Deceit’s speech patterns), as he sighed sadly. “Can I at least come with you this time?” Looking at Deceit with pleading eyes, he knew it was a vain effort, yet he’d still like to help however he could. Deceit hardly had to speak, since his broken eye contact and newfound frown answered Thomas on its own. “Sadly, you can follow me, for now. I won’t tell you otherwise as soon as possible.”

With this news, Thomas stares down at the floor, not allowing himself to feel too disappointed in himself. He knew that he needed to become stronger, since Deceit may need plenty of help while on his trips. Thomas couldn’t provide that help as a simple apprentice.

“I won’t miss you.”

“...must you leave tonight?”

A twinkle of mischief sparkled in Deceit’s eyes, which always warned Thomas of something dramatic before it happened.

“Of course not. It isn’t the dead of a moonless night, the time of adventure.” While saying this, he rummages around his scales-painted bag. Another gift? This felt a tad overwhelming, especially since he came with plenty of goodies from last time. His hand finally escaped his bag under Thomas’s watchful gaze, though it left with a deck of cards.

Deceit’s tarot deck, that is.

“You shouldn’t take this, it would be obsolete while I’m away”

His jaw dropped, feeling completely taken aback by this idea. Sure, Thomas knows how to use the deck (and, if he’s being honest, he’s quite good at it), but he’s not known as “the wandering magician”, unlike Deceit. Plus, he’s only an apprentice, why is _Thomas_ being trusted with such a powerful deck from a powerful sorcerer?

If Deceit could read his mind (could he?), his thoughts clearly irked him, shown through the eye roll he gave after awhile of Thomas’ starstruck haze. “I can totally keep holding these cards towards you, I don’t have a life to finish.” His comment almost made Thomas snort, but instead he delicately took the cards whilst staring at them, ecstatic apprehension all over his face.

“You think I’m ready for these, master?”

His magical teacher studied him for a moment, sending a tint of anxiety into Thomas. However, he simply smiled at his student, yet something else was in his eyes. Thomas couldn’t understand what else was there, but it didn’t look cheerful.

“You still aren’t calling me that...” he shook his head, and this time that look in his eyes grew, but he covered it up as best as he could with words. “I can totally answer that for you, it’s not as if you’ve made tons of progress, and totally won’t let go of your doubt.” With much more obvious lies, it emphasized how Deceit wanted to get a point across. To Thomas, he clearly believed that he was quite talented, which was a compliment in itself.

“Do you think you’re ready?”

The question caught Thomas off guard, making him look back at Deceit. The simple answer, to Thomas at least, was “no”, but a different answer came out instead. One that had him giddy with nervousness. “Why don’t we ask the cards?”

If his reaction was anything to go by, Deceit was surprised as well. Pleasantly so, however, since he replied with “an awful suggestion”, whilst moving to sit across from Thomas in their back room.

The back room was circular and small, perfect for a card reading. Velvet covered the table in a grassy disguise, draping beyond the sides like a vine. The seats, across from each other, were low enough to show both men from the torso up, and nothing more. The window between them let in whatever starlight would escape the curtains, but otherwise it was quite dark. Deceit absentmindedly mentioned, “It’s been such a short time since we’ve practiced.”

“Because I’ve already perfected it?”  
  
“You haven’t?” Although he attempted to keep a neutral expression, Thomas could see a smirk trying to show itself. “You’re not gifted, I should’ve expected more.” Thomas chuckled at that, slightly embarrassed by the oddly-worded praise. It was difficult to understand where this confidence in Deceit came from, but it was quite useful when practicing.

After a pause, Deceit continued with, “Well, don’t show this technique of yours.”

So, Thomas showed him, or at least tried to. He almost shuffled the cards, but he felt a sudden smoothness, cool and scaly, run across his leg. Deceit must have felt it too, since he chuckled and said with a grin, “oh, we don’t seem to have a visitor.” He brought his arm down beneath the table, and raised it back up.

Two heads popped up by Deceit, their tongues facing Thomas within small bleps. He smiled at the pair as Deceit said hello to his familiars- Jasper and Horace. They were a snake with two heads and one body, with green everywhere but on their underside (that part was yellow). They seemed pleased to Thomas, despite snakes not having any vivid facial expressions.

“If we’re all gone, we shouldn’t began”

Taking that as his cue, Thomas shuffled the cards. Deceit’s eyes watched as they glide through Thomas’s hands, practiced to an art. Three cards were eventually laid out, somewhat forming a triangle. The top right card was flipped, which Thomas called out as The High Priestess.

Deceit leaned closer to the card, transfixed on it. “What has- hasn’t she said? Are you s- are you not speaking to her?” Thomas could tell he was expectant, since his silver tongue slipped.

The cards speak in an inhumane speech. It’s easier for Thomas to clear his mind and let the words flow, rather than try to pry an answer immediately. They slide out of his mouth, as easily as water, “You’ve forsaken her.”

Deceit questions this to his apprentice, eyes wide with unconfined surprised. Jasper and Horace seem apprehensive to continue, but they don’t stop Thomas. So, he continues, “You’ve pushed her away, and buried her voice.”

Deceit’s brows pinch in worry, a frown on his face. He says nothing.

“She calls out, but you won’t listen. Master, if you ignore her...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you got to this point then hi- I’ll try posting as often as I can (and I’ll make a separate work with drawings of their designs because ye) but tbh I’m mostly doing this for fun. Please tell me of any concerns or questions you have because I don’t wanna cause confusion or accidentally type something I don’t recognize as wrong. 
> 
> Also Happy Halloween!


	2. The High Priestess

_ Knock knock knock._

Three boisterous taps to the door snap Thomas out of his connection to The High Priestess. Blinking a few times, he watches as Deceit stands up, while his familiars slither up his arm and into his scarf. Thomas’ eyes dart toward the front door. Who could possibly be out at this hour?

Deceit merely chuckled. “We must’ve not forgotten about the lantern again. Ah well, I could stay for much longer.”

With that, Deceit gathered everything he’ll need on his new journey. As much as Thomas would like to ask about his trip, he knows that he’ll never get a straight answer, so he remains quiet.

The magician gives Thomas one last look before saying, “you did quite horribly with the reading, as pleasant as the card was.” Deceit gave a quick, fanged smile, after they exchanged goodbyes. Parting the curtain smoothly, he made his leave through their back door.

Thomas shuffled the cards back into their tiny deck. Deceit’s barely gone before another few knocks, loud and a tad aggressive, hit his door. They don’t sound particularly patient. He places the deck onto the velvet tablecloth, before opening the door.

On the other side stood a concealed figure, who reveals themself from under a tattered cloak. Hastily entering the shop, he says, “I’m quite sorry for coming at such an odd hour, but I really do need you help- you are Thomas, correct?” His abrupt stop gave the visitor the chance observe Thomas. The apprentice’s eyes held plenty of shock, but he recovered not long after they asked their question.

“I- uh- yes! Yeah I’m Thomas- that’s me- yep” came his bumbling reply. Standing before him, in the dead of night, was Vesuvia’s Count Roman himself!

Roman Satrinava ruled Vesuvia in a fair manner, treating each citizen as equals. Although egotistical, he’s one of the better leaders that Thomas has heard of (at the very least, he seems much better than the previous Count). He’s ruled for about six months, but he’s shown dedication and devotion to Vesuvia in that minuscule amount of time. 

The humility made Roman smirk in a fond way, which was quickly erased. “Thank goodness,” began the Count, “I cannot sleep another sleepless night.” Every movement of the Count was flavored with a dramatic tilt of his head, an exaggerated step walked, a twirling hand dancing. It made it more difficult for Thomas to place his guest’s cloak down onto the counter, but that thought was hardly prominent in his head.

When he looked up from what he was doing, he saw the Count’s eyes pointed at him. It made Thomas look away, and prompted the Count to speak. “Thomas, I need you to read the cards for me.”

The statement didn’t surprise Thomas, since plenty of people only came for a reading. Yet, he was still acutely aware of the fact that _Count Roman_ is asking for _his_ _help._ Naturally, he told Roman that he came to the right place (in a quick and nervous manner), allowing the Count to sigh in relief, his shoulders dropping. “Good. From what I’ve heard, this is the best place in all of the land. Beggars, nobles, they all talk of you with nothing but wonder and praise!” He paused, once again observing Thomas, before continuing, “although you were much different in my dream.” His voice held a sense of amusement and nostalgia, but Roman was quick to sound regal in a matter of moments, “no matter, I have a proposal for you.”

Mind swirling with questions, Thomas couldn’t help but ask, “Dream?” The Count must’ve realized how confusing that sounded, so Roman explained, “ah yes- I have this uncanny ability to see... future visions, I suppose, from my dreams. I didn't want the future I saw to happen, so I went to you!” He seemed confident that this was the right choice, or he was just acting pompous. Regardless, Thomas asked about the proposal, not quite knowing how to respond to his dream ability (not because the ability was impossible, per se, but it seemed much more advanced than anything Deceit has explained, and Roman didn’t have a reputation as a magician).

“Oh rest assured, this isn’t anything bad. I don’t require much from you. Simply put, I’d like you to stay at the palace for a short while. I’ll make sure that you have the finest luxuries, of course. All that you need to bring are your Arcana and skill. I will make sure that the guards know of your arrival by tomorrow.” He paused, allowing Thomas to sink in what he was told.

Not only was he getting _hired to lead an investigation_, he would be _staying at the palace_! How high must his reputation be, to have been appointed by someone who could easily get a powerful magician like Deceit to help instead?

However, Roman wasn’t quite done. The pause must’ve been for dramatic affect, as he added, “But before that, I would like to see your talents for myself.”

So _that’s_ why Roman asked for a reading. Luckily, Thomas is quite skilled with his magic, so he had little doubt that he could show Roman what he was capable of. He ushered the Count into the backroom that he and Deceit were just in.

Roman sat himself across from Thomas, his imperious gaze studying the smaller room, before looking at the cards. Shuffled with ease, the cards move as effortlessly as before. Roman takes this moment to close his eyes and fold his hands, though Thomas doesn’t notice.

The triangle is formed yet again. This time, the top left card was flipped, revealing The Magician. Unlike The High Priestess, who was an owl with an authoritative gaze, The Magician was a fox coated in mystery. Roman observed its face with an inscrutable expression. “What does The Magician have to tell me?”

Similarly to The High Priestess, The Magician’s voice is clear enough to interpret. Within a similar haze as before, Thomas translates the message, “You have a plan. One that’s important to you.”

“And? Should I set it in motion?”

Roman’s blatantly impatient, but from what the Count’s explained, it’s quite understandable. “Yes. Now is the time to act. Everything has fallen into place.”

Standing up grandly, Roman’s face is determined. “Say no more.” Thomas stops, his connection to an Arcana yet again breaking. The Count walks back into the main room of the shop, pulling his cloak back on as he faces a still-sitting Thomas. “Your fortunes are straightforward, just like the others I’ve heard before.” He tried not to show it, but Thomas felt as though his ego was slapped. Of course he couldn’t impress the Count, that was way too much to expect, why did he think-

“And yet,” Roman began, startling Thomas out of his unpleasant spiral, “you’re the first one to pique my interest. For now, you should probably get some rest, I shall see you by tomorrow, preferably sooner rather than later.”

Roman sends him an encouraging smirk, before Thomas opens the shop door to let him out. As soon as the _pitter patter_ of footsteps leaves his ears, Thomas lets out a breath he was unknowingly holding.

He did it, he successfully made the Count believe in his abilities. _He’s going to be working at the palace, becoming the leader of an investigation._

He whooped, cheered, attempted a handstand, anything and everything that came to his ecstatic mind. Thomas couldn’t believe it, he’s truly seen as qualified enough for this job!

...Which made Thomas pause his moment of victory. What _were_ the details of this job? He knew that it was an investigation, but what mystery was being investigated for _the palace_ to need help on? Perhaps Roman meant Deceit, and simply got their names mixed up? Maybe some else would be seen as worthy enough to lead, and Thomas would get there only to be fired. Was this why Deceit left, to lead this investigation?

As he mulled over these possibilities, an unfamiliar, mumbled and grouchy voice came from the back room.

“Strange hours for a shop to keep..”


	3. The Hanged Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for breaking in and for 1 harming of an animal (the second one is at the end and isn’t too detailed so it might be alright? Idk)
> 
> Also some minor violence

_ Who said that?_

Thomas’ head spun so quickly towards the backroom it nearly hurt, but he hardly cared.

What first caught his attention was the plague mask, concealing this intruder’s face. The paleness of the mask was a stark contrast to the blacks and purples on the rest of their clothes. They gave Thomas a two-point salute, before jumping off of the table.

“So this is the liar’s lair,” their voice held a twinge of bitterness, leaving Thomas a bit confused and apprehensive. “Who might you be?”

When Roman was here, his stare held curiosity, but amusement nonetheless. This person’s stare, however, seemed cautious, wary of Thomas rather than inviting. They started to advance towards Thomas, so in a moment of panic, his magic formed into a zooming white light, aimed to attack them.

Luckily for the intruder, they dodged just in time. “Oh, was I not wanted at this exact second?” Their voice wobbled slightly, despite the precocious attitude. Thomas hardly registered that as he frantically ran behind the counter, grabbing the first empty bottle he saw.

“As fun as it is to see you try, you can’t get rid-” _smash._

Thomas launched the bottle at their head, adrenaline taking over his decisions.

“ACK- oh geez that hurts-,” their mask lands on the floor, having been knocked loose from the blow. A bleeding cut formed right above their brow. Their pale face contrasts with dark eye bags, yet they look extremely familiar...

Thomas, in a sudden recollection of this face, cannot remember their name. While searching his brain for answers, he almost doesn’t hear the question regarding Deceit’s location. Glaring at the stranger, Thomas answers, “Master Deceit’s gone, I don’t know where.”

Within a mere wipe of the cut (that should’ve been deep enough to cause a scar), the entire wound disappeared. _Great_, they‘re a magician too. 

“Is that so...” they seem contemplative for a moment, but Thomas has hardly anytime to question it. “Well, no sense in wasting a visit. You’re a fortune teller, aren’t you?” He gives a wary nod, not trusting to use his voice. “Cool, cool- uh, you can just tell my fortune then, and I’ll leave you at peace.”

_ ...what?_

“...That _is _what the backroom is for, right?” He gives another nod, bewildered at the change in conversation. They move their hand in front of them, prompting Thomas to move for their reading. “After you, then.”

Although hesitantly, Thomas resumes his position at the table, once again reordering the cards and forming his triangle. When the stranger sits down, their fingers tap a consistent rhythm, albeit nervously. Their eyes loomed on the cards while they shuffled, but their mind seemed to be elsewhere. Was this _truly_ the same person who _broke into his shop_, and was now sitting _anxiously_ for an unprompted reading? Whatever happened to the cocky and brash attitude from before?

Thomas decided not to dwell on it for too long, instead saying, “I’m going to need your name.”

“Huh?”

“Well, if I’m going to continue on with this reading, I’ll need your name.” He couldn’t hide the slight annoyance in his voice, but to be fair, Thomas doesn’t exactly deal with intruders often.

“Ah, well... you can just call me Anx.” He said his name rather quickly too, but again, Thomas chose to ignore it.

Flipping over the bottom card, it sat between the other two. A skeletal head covered in rags with a scythe faced him, as Thomas’ mind races.

“...Death.”

Before Thomas can begin to understand the card, however, Anx interrupts. “Death? _Death?_“ he stood abruptly, waves of anxiety rolling off of him. “Oh please, I’m only a waste of Death’s time, I can’t be dying yet-“ his feet take him to the front room, somewhat alarming Thomas.

“That’s not what Death means though, If you would’ve just let me finished-“

“Oh whatever,” he suddenly sighs, facing Thomas through his panic, “If the cards said it, then I’m dead. But at least you’re hospitable, so I’ll let you in on a secret.”

He tried to stare down Thomas, but a few moments made him look away. Anx nearly whispers, “Obviously your witch friend will return, and he’s taught you what he knows,” they grab the discarded mask from the floor, staring at its glassy eyes, “hell, he even pretends to care about you- but, when he returns- just, seek me out, for your own sake.”

_ ...huh?_

He slips through the back door as soon as the mask seals his face yet again. Thomas was now alone, puzzled and apprehensive about this stranger. Who _was_ he? Why does he hold such a grudge against Deceit? Why in the world did he break in- and how??

The questions mulled over in his mind as he closed the shop for the night, not willing to see anymore customers. Sure, meeting the Count was amazing, but Anx was just...odd.

And somehow, Thomas was getting dejavú from him.

Once he was done, he went upstairs to sleep, despite his interrogative thought. Hopefully, everything will be less jumbled in the morning. Maybe he could visit Gavin, before he headed to the palace. 

_ Cronch._

Leaves were squished from under his boots. The sun was barely rising, only a slimmer of purple disturbed the navy sky. His best friend, a wolf, was on her own adventure within the forest. 

The peryton was just a few steps in front of him, an ethereal glow of teal surrounding them. Angelic wings sprouted from their back. Their dark hooves shined brighter than any known diamond. They had just risen from sitting down, their wings flapping for a few moments.

Logan had researched this being for awhile now. They were the heart of the forest, magically bound to any and all life within it. Their feathers and antlers glimmered in the moonlight, almost as if there was a galaxy within them. He never understood magic, but he couldn’t deny how fascinating it was. Simply observing them filled him with a sense of wonder.

Their eyes met his, stealing his breath away. Logan clutched his pitiful cloak around himself more, subconsciously shielding himself in shame. The heart trotted up to him, their stag face curiously watching him. He couldn’t believe how close he was, how _serene_ this whole experience was.

Tentatively, he raised his hand to pet them, stilling to let them opt out. As they didn’t move, he lightly rubbed the top of their head. His lips quirked upwards as they leaned into the touch, beady eyes closing shut. Logan’s hand continued to pet them in feather-light touches. Nothing could’ve ruined this moment, it was too tranquil to be touched.

Until, in the blink of an eye, three deep scratches vandalized the peryton’s back. The transparent image of a beast was visible for a moment, before disappearing as the heart let out a wail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah Anx is Virgil btw
> 
> And wow 4 sides are already here- neat


	4. The Star

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for lots of food mentions, and one bad pun

As a magician’s apprentice, Thomas isn’t new to abnormal occurrences. He’s used enough trinkets and seen enough creatures that should’ve surprised him, and haven’t. 

Although, last night was certainly one of the _weirdest._ It’s not every night that you give three readings (two being interrupted), whilst meeting the Count _and_ having your shop broken into.  
  
When he finally went to sleep, his dreams decided to be just as odd. 

_Thomas was surrounded by nothing but stars. A green line was in the horizon, barely separating the sky and land. He couldn’t see anything to walk on, yet he felt the floor under his shoes._

_Deceit was next to him, his hat and scarf nearly covering his entire face. Only his eyes visible, a stoic. He was mounting a beast of some sort, but Thomas couldn’t tell what type of creature it was, since his attention was on their location. He asked, “where are we?”, yet his own voice sounded far away. _

_Dark clouds blended in with the night sky, as rust-colored sand starts to form the ground. A solid black road forges ahead of them, as if it was already here. _

_His teacher’s response didn’t sound much closer, despite being directly next to him. “Close enough to home,” meaning they’re far away. _

_“Far enough... for what?” _

_“Not for answers, or clarity. I could totally wait on getting them later.” Deceit’s voice began dimming to a whisper, his eyes focused on the distance. The black road from before shifts in directions, making it hard to focus on. _  
  
_Deceit speaks again, but this time it’s louder, almost normal, “there won’t be a crossroads anytime soon.” _

_“How soon? Where do they lead?” Strange, Thomas’ voice has also corrected itself. _

_“That totally wouldn’t depend on which one you take.” The sand begins to rise from around them, darting in swirling armies, prepared to fight the sky. As mesmerizing as it was to watch, Thomas felt himself leaving the dream. _

_“Do stay awake Thomas, you don’t need optimal rest or anything.” _

_With that, the apprentice’s dream fades to black. He feels oddly at peace._

By the time Thomas awakens, dawn is creeping through his bedroom window. His dream is fresh in his mind, but he can hardly decipher it. Perhaps his mind is just being strange, since dreams often don’t mean anything.

_Right....?_

It’s not like Thomas had much time to overthink his dream anyways, he needs to get himself to the palace! Hastily, he darted around the bedroom, putting on his clothes for the day. They weren’t flashy: a pale, semi-flowing shirt with dark sleeves wrapped in two thin white stripes. Sturdy leather shoes protected his feet, and a equally sturdy belt kept his clothes in place. Long, black breeches cut off his woolen and pale socks. All in all, he looked like a typical Vesuvian citizen. Hopefully Roman wouldn’t be offended by his lack of high-end fashion. 

Then again, he wasn’t exactly as rich as Roman, so he honestly couldn’t meet any fashion standards that might’ve been expected. 

Since he was instructed to only bring himself and Deceit’s (Thomas’?) tarot deck, he only added a bag and his own cloak. He left the shop, locking it up with both keys and spells, before embracing his new adventure in the palace. 

His first stop was the marketplace. He wanted to pick up some pumpkin bread, since he hadn’t made himself any breakfast. 

The marketplace was a mix of unordered booths and tiny buildings. The roads weren’t straight paths, intermingling at any opportunity. Regardless, it’s always been a place where Thomas could go to and feel at peace, as if nothing could go wrong. Sure, there were often crowds of people, typically loud crowds, but those never faltered his mood. 

Soon enough, Thomas found his favorite stall, holding a heavy smell of baked goods. A head of coiled curls saw Thomas approach, a bright smile donning his face. 

“Thomas!” called Gavin, the baker’s son. His parents both worked on actually baking, so Gavin would stand upfront to take customer order’s. He and Thomas have gotten quite close as Thomas battled his amnesia, and are sometimes nearly inseparable. He greeted Gavin back, before asking how he’s been. 

“Mostly just bread, but I’m trying to prove that I can care for a cat!” He rambled on about how much he wanted said pet, and Thomas gave occasional input as Gavin told of his attempts to earn a cat. Their conversation flowed easily as Thomas waited on his pumpkin bread (he never had to give an order by himself, since he never buys any other pastries). Somehow, their topic switched to Thomas’ new job, which Gavin was enthusiastic about. 

“Woah! You’re gonna be working at the palace? You’ve got to sneak me into there, it’d be so cool to feel like royalty!” Gavin has a teasing glint in his eye, so he clearly wasn’t serious. Regardless, Thomas promised to bring him something from the palace (if he could). Gavin asked plenty of questions, so Thomas reiterated what happened last night. 

“So Count Roman had... a dream? That led to you?” There was curiosity in Gavin’s every word, with a hint of wonder. 

“Yeah, I’m not quite sure why a dream of all things, but I’m suspecting that the Count is a magician of sorts.”

“I don’t know, there have been loads of rumors of him hating magicians. Granted, they’re just gossip that I’ve heard from customers, but still.” The baker’s child had a point. There was a theory of sorts that has and continues to circle Vesuvia, explaining that the Count hated any and all magicians. Deceit had laughed about it, so Thomas has been reluctant to believe it. 

Besides, if Roman hated magicians, why would he hire one to work for him? Why would he believe a reading he received from one? The idea of the Count hating magicians seemed somewhat inconsistent with how he’s treated Thomas. He voiced such thoughts to Gavin, who gave a simple, “fair enough,” before the talk of the palace drifted into a new topic. 

Soon enough, Thomas’ bread had been baked. He paid for his food, and gave Gavin a goodbye, plus the promise of a palace gift.

Maneuvering around the Marketplace wasn’t difficult, it was simply tedious. Being five feet, ten inches tall, Thomas had the advantage of being able to see over other customers. 

He slipped out of the crowd, rounding the corner to stairs that led to the palace. He spotted an old fortune teller’s booth in a wall, reminding him of Deceit. 

How would _he_ react to this offer? He’s never seemed upset over Thomas’ accomplishments before, but what if the palace changes that? What if- 

No, Deceit hasn’t held a grudge on the palace, or at least not one big enough to rant to Thomas about. He shook his head, determined to head to the palace unaffected. 

Until, of course, he clashed into a shorter person, who had just left the fortune teller’s booth. Apologies were ushered out of them both, but pomegranates rolled away from the stranger, presumably from their bag that was previously filled.

“Oh no, I’m definitely running late,” they frantically grab any fallen pomegranates in their reach. Thomas, feeling a tad guilty for running into them, collected any of the fruits that they missed, while helping them put the pomegranates back into their bag. 

“Thank you for your help! I’m not gonna take this for _pomogranted_,” they laughed at their own joke, and Thomas found it hard to stop a few chuckles. He replied with a simple, “No prob, bob.” 

That left them slightly puzzled, “my name’s Patton actually, who might you be?” Thomas has heard his name around the marketplace before, but only in insignificant rumors. He gave his name to Patton, who inhaled in dramatic excitement.

Then Patton began to violently cough. 

Thomas patted his back to help him out, concern immediately taking over. “Are you ok??” Why would his name induce such an extreme reaction? Was his reputation as big as Roman made it seem?

Patton stopped coughing momentarily, seeming somewhat embarrassed. “Sorry, I got overexcited,” despite the sheepish tone, he peeked back up quickly, “but you’re the magician M’Lord hired for the investigation!” His voice held a squeaky glee, matching his beaming smile. “I’m the head servant for Count Roman, it’s great to meet you!” 

This sweet puffball made it difficult for Thomas to not feel some joy himself. He gave Patton a softer smile, saying, “it’s great to meet you too, were you just heading to the palace?” He gets an enthusiastic nod from Patton, and a promise to show Thomas the quickest route to the palace.

The quicker route was, apparently, the tallest. They walked up a seemingly endless staircase, with some pauses for Thomas to catch up. Apparently, Patton was too used to this journey, but he was more than patient with the investigator, which Thomas was thankful for. They’ve made easy conversation together, allowing Thomas to know Patton better. The head servant resides in a cottage next to the palace, with his hairless cat Pooh. He adored lots of children’s tales, including the never-ending-series of Disney books (Count Roman introduced Patton to those, and apparently they’ve fanboyed about it more times than they could count). An entire guarden had been grown by him, which was, as Patton put it, “absolutely gorgeous! You have to come see it sometime!” 

They were nearing the final few steps towards the palace, and for the first time since they’ve spoken, Patton’s voice went softer. “I’m glad you’re here, Kiddo,” he pauses, looking contemplative. “M’Lord really needs good people he can trust, and... you seem good to me! So, thanks, for that.” He wasn’t looking at Thomas, so it was hard to tell what Patton was feeling. 

“It’s... it’s no problem, pat,” his voice was extremely breathy from all the walking, but at least his words were understandable. 

Not long after, Thomas was looking up at an iron gate, which must’ve been the most cared-for metal he’s ever seen. The sun is starting to go down, getting blocked by a regal, intimidating and grand building. The paint and stone shimmer in the natural light. Thomas’ mouth drops. 

“Welcome to the palace, Kiddo!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah this took way too long but at least it’s somewhat longer than the other chapters? 
> 
> I’ll make a separate work for character designs and whatnot-


	5. The Count

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for food mentions and major character death, and one very brief mention of politics- no names, it’s just the word politics
> 
> Also Roman wears a dress

To say that the anticipation was stressful, was _certainly_ an understatement.

When they reached the gates, two guards in iron armor had their weapons at the ready. They only relaxed after Patton talked to them, and eventually allowed the pair to enter the gates.

Sure, being face-to-face with guards was unnerving, but being inside the palace sent another swarm of terror through Thomas. Part of him wanted to leave immediately, as the rich and polished hallways seemed overwhelming from their shine _alone_. Yet, a stronger part of him was overflowing with glee, because _he was finally at the palace_, and he was going to be worth _more_ than his and Deceit’s shop.

Patton, since he was leading Thomas around the place, didn’t seem to notice his internal dilema. In fact, the head servant seemed almost _cheerier_ once they entered. Thomas couldn’t understand Patton’s growing joy.

Then again, he wasn’t used to the palace, so maybe his confusion should be expected.

Someone with a melodramatic, blue-feathered hat stopped Patton in the hallway. All they did was quietly inform Patton of a few things, none of which Thomas could hear.

“Who was that?” Thomas questioned after they left, now curious.

“Oh, that’s the Chamberlin! They just let me know that your dinner with Roman was still good to go!”

“Dinner?”

“Well duh, we’re gonna feed you while you’re here, silly!” The servant giggled, and Thomas felt as though Patton didn’t quite understand why he was puzzled. At least Patton continued with, “Count Roman wanted to talk to you some more, so he figured a dinner would work! He’s not downstairs yet, so you’ll have a moment to breathe if needed Kiddo. I get it if this is all overwhelming.”

That took Thomas by surprise. Patton was more concerned about Thomas than he’d originally let on. It made the apprentice smile, “thanks Patton.”

Patton had a knack for making people comfortable. He and Thomas ate the bread while walking to the palace, which allowed them both to briefly talk about Gavin and his family’s shop (and the familiarity _really_ helped ease Thomas). On the way to dinner, he kept Thomas distracted with short stories of working at the palace. The apprentice nearly forgot that he was in such a royal place, until they entered the dining room.

The dining room was prodigiously lavish for Thomas, but Patton reassured him that all would be fine. The servant said that he had some work to do, but he’d pop up in the dinner every now and then. Knowing that was somewhat reassuring, as they both went their separate ways.

He took a seat at one of the golden chairs with red cushioning. The table was dressed in a white cloth, pure of any dirt and grime. Two large candles sat on opposite sides of long table, their light fighting with the chandeliers’. Silky, crystal-like ribbons hung from each chandelier, draping, but never close enough to the candles. Dinner plates of gold and china covered the table’s service, with new servants putting food on them the whole time. Royal red walls were covered in pompous paintings with golden frames. 

It was very much _not_ Thomas’ usual scene. He wasn’t sure if he needed help calming his nerves or letting out his excitement. He hardly got time to decide, as footsteps approached the seat across from him, and sat down.

Count Roman seemed much more in his element. He wore silk red robes with a white dress, golden trim donning them both. The gleaming crown and jewelry from last night were on him once again. He possessed an air of superiority, yet he gave Thomas a warm, inviting smile when their eyes met. He tried to return the smile, but Thomas’ was much more timid.

“Greetings, Thomas! I hope you were able to come here without any trouble?”

“Yes sir, Patton helped me get here.”

Roman’s eyes twinkled at the mention of Patton, his smile somehow becoming brighter. “I’m not surprised that he did, he’s the sweetest puffball you’ll ever meet!” He paused for a moment, giving Thomas the most humble expression he’s ever seen on the Count. “Although, you don’t have to use fancy formalities for me. I know I’m the Count, but I’m gonna be working _with_ you on this, so don’t worry about any ‘sir’s or ‘milord’s or anything.”

Oddly enough, that seemed to relax Thomas quite a bit. He agreed to try and be less formal when addressing Roman, which pleased the Count. As they began to eat, their conversation soon turned into small, inconsequential topics.

Roman was loud and boisterous. He became passionate on topics in the blink of an eye. His mannerisms were somehow _more_ exaggerated than last night. He loved to gloat, whether it was over brave quests or petty politics, he love to talk highly of himself. Normally, that type of self-centeredness irritated Thomas, but Roman made it quite entertaining, rather than unbearable.

They had been discussing inconsistencies within a Disney book called “frozen” (“an act of true love will save Ana’s life, and it doesn’t have to be romantic love! So, why doesn’t _Olaf, nearly sacrificing his life,_ to comfort Ana, because he cares more about her than himself, count as an act of true love?”) when Thomas had spaced out, looking at the painting behind Roman.

The painting consisted of an octopus in the center, inviting other animals to have a meal with them. The food seemed so luxurious and welcoming, Thomas nearly felt invited to the animal dinner himself. Yet, the octopus seemed like a fabrication. A disguise of something worse.

Roman took notice of Thomas’ attention to the painting. “Ah yes, that painting belonged to my brother, Count Remus.”

Count Remus was an enigma to Thomas. Depending on who you asked, he was either a legend, or a monster. Stories about him were told in various ways, that the truth was impossible to find. Only one fact about him never changed: he died in a fire, sick, trapped, and _laughing._

“He’s, uh, actually the reason I hired you.” Roman didn’t look at Thomas, but when he spoke, his voice wasn’t booming, for once. The conspiratorial tone made Thomas look at him, concerned for the shift in Roman’s mood.

“I need you to investigate the mystery behind my brother’s death.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow the first chapter to not be named after a tarot card- neat
> 
> Anyways, I’ll try to stop making anymore end notes for awhile and just stick to pre-chapter warnings


End file.
